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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27388420">you don't have to save me here ('cause I just wanna know your name)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/headuphigh/pseuds/headuphigh'>headuphigh</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Lucifer (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Chance Meetings, Episode: s01e01 Pilot, F/M, Pre-Lucifer (TV) Season/Series 01, Sexual Tension</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:33:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,334</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27388420</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/headuphigh/pseuds/headuphigh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Lucifer and Chloe crossed paths without stopping, and the one time they did.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chloe Decker &amp; Lucifer Morningstar, Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>125</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>you don't have to save me here ('cause I just wanna know your name)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/venividivictorious/gifts">venividivictorious</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Title lyrics from <i>Find My Way Back</i> by Cody Fry.</p>
<p>For all the wonderful people I met in this fandom, who give me strength when times are hard. ❤</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>

<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <em>
      <strong>~ I ~</strong>
    </em>
  </p>
</div><p>The artificially blue cake perched on one of the tables below him catches Lucifer’s attention once he stops along the railing of the staircase, as Lux welcomes him for yet another night of sin in the City of Angels. Or so he thought.</p>
<p>It’s cops. Cops celebrating some kind of special occasion, in <em>his</em> club. The letters L-A-P-D stare back at him from the top of the cake, written in some yellow substance under a too-big edible badge and surrounded by red and blue sugar-made police sirens.</p>
<p>Dandy. Just dandy.</p>
<p>Judging by the average age of the people gathered at the booth, the guy being celebrated is fresh off the police academy, or maybe a few of them are. Rookies and young officers, the lot of them; the worst brand of cops to bribe so that the fun in his little kingdom can turn as naughty as he likes. That’s the only thing they’re good at, as far as he’s concerned: turning a blind eye while slipping a bunch of cash in their bloody pockets.</p>
<p>Lucifer doesn’t like having them here, but since they so kindly chose his venue for their little celebration, the Devil feels magnanimous tonight. Elbows on the railing, he bounces his Pentecostal coin in the air and leaves it there to spin, thumb flicking mindlessly. So many humans notice, all the time, but they think he’s a magician. Sometimes they even ask him what his secret is.</p>
<p><em>Ah, mortals.</em> If only they believed him.</p>
<p>“CD! You made it!” one of the women at the LAPD table shouts to be heard over the music, gesturing at someone behind him. On instinct, Lucifer turns, snatching the coin with his hand to halt its floating.</p>
<p>She walks right by him, this “CD”, her upper body concealed by a slightly oversized sweater tucked inside a much tighter miniskirt. But <em>oh</em>, she has legs for <em>days</em>, skin pulled taut over her calves thanks to the simple pair of black heels at her feet. Lucifer can only glimpse her profile as she stops, a few steps down from where he is now, and leans over the railing.</p>
<p>Bloody hell, would you look at that behind.</p>
<p>“Guys, come on, I told you not to call me that! It sounds too silly!”</p>
<p>And off she goes, laughing as she joins her friends and colleagues. Lucifer licks his lips.</p>
<p>Good to know the boys in blue have far better taste these days.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p> </p>

<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <em>
      <strong>~ II ~</strong>
    </em>
  </p>
</div><p>“Oh, sorry, didn’t see you there!” Chloe rushes to apologize after bumping into the man trying to enter the coffee shop at her exact same time, their shoulders and forearms colliding in the process. “I must have been lost in thought.”</p>
<p>Well, of course she was. She’s a detective now, finally, and every case excites her and stresses her in equal measure. She has so much to prove. <em>Too</em> much, in fact.</p>
<p>“No worries, love, no harm done.” The man opens the door for her, British accent startling her. He’s as gorgeous as they come; more, even. “After you, darling.”</p>
<p>The place is unfamiliar to Chloe: she’s only here because her latest crime scene is nearby. But the line leading to the counter is not a new sight, and at least it shows she must have chosen a good one. She joins the line, British guy behind her now. It doesn’t take her long to feel watched, even without having eyes on the back of her head.</p>
<p>“Uhm, is there something you need?” She turns to find him staring, dark eyes and hair and suit, all wrapped up in pitch-black night. God, if she wasn’t married, she would totally flirt with him right now.</p>
<p>“I just… have this odd feeling, like I remember you from somewhere,” he says. When his eyes light up and an almost feral grin stretches his lips, Chloe’s stomach drops. “Hold on, were you in H–”</p>
<p>His cellphone rings, cutting him off just before he can utter the dreaded words. Small mercies.</p>
<p>“For crying out loud, what now?” Mr. Absolutely-Not-Handsome Stranger snaps when he picks up, holding an old little Nokia model to his ear. Chloe didn’t think people used those anymore. “He’s back? <em>Already</em>? Gosh, it must be particularly boring up there then. But why can’t you deal with–alright. Yes, I'm on my way. Oh, and Mazikeen? I'm getting rid of this wretched thing. Consider the experiment officially failed.”</p>
<p>Chloe watches him end the call and put the phone back in his pocket. He sighs, then looks up at the ceiling as if trying to shoot daggers right past it, pinching the bridge of his nose with long, elegant fingers adorned with a black ring. The movement exposes the column of his throat, his pale neck a canvas of freckles.</p>
<p>Maybe it’s for the best that he’s leaving.</p>
<p>“Apologies, dear. An urgent matter arose.” <em>Don’t mention the movie, don’t mention the movie, don’t mention–</em> “But I'm absolutely counting on an autograph next time! Or perhaps a reshoot? My hot tub is quite something, I assure you.”</p>
<p>Yes, definitely for the best.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p> </p>

<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <em>
      <strong>~ III ~</strong>
    </em>
  </p>
</div><p>Let Chloe tell you something: being separated <em>sucks</em>. Make no mistake, Dan isn’t helping change her mind at all; but there is no denying the fact that Chloe is lonely, and at the same time, unable to have even a meaningless one-night-stand without feeling like <em>she</em> is the one who gave up on their marriage. In her mind, they’re still a family, even as broken and messed up as it is.</p>
<p>There is nothing like having a bit of much deserved “me time” to stop herself from wallowing. Granted, she’ll probably feel even lonelier afterwards, but at least she will unwind somewhat.</p>
<p>She does have a few go-to videos, but tonight, she decides to browse. She’s not after anything particularly kinky; on the contrary, it’s simplicity that does it for her. Just two people joined together, reduced to the primal joy of bodies moving as one. Just sex.</p>
<p>Laptop sitting beside her on top of the covers hiding her lower body from view, Chloe looks and looks until a specific thumbnail and title catch her attention.</p>
<p>
  <em>Lucifer Morningstar Gives Misty The Best Night Of Her Life</em>
</p>
<p>Why does she feel like there’s something familiar there? Where has she seen that strong jaw before, that set of slightly curly raven locks?</p>
<p>The answer comes to her as soon as she clicks: this Lucifer Morningstar, it turns out, is the asshole from the coffee shop. She remembers regretting her initial assessment of him as soon as he realized who she was and proceeded to be a complete scumbag about that <em>stupid</em> movie that keeps haunting her.</p>
<p>“Yup, goodbye,” she tells the screen, ready to close the video and find something else. All that excitement about seeing her boobies (what is he, twelve?), when the truth is the guy has been showing much, <em>much</em> more than her.</p>
<p>So much, in fact, that Chloe’s resolve falters. The video starts mid-action, all flexing muscles and roaming hands, the man’s hair curlier and wild as he grips the soft hips of the woman moaning under him. The freckled neck she already noticed back then now gives way to an equally freckled chest and an elegantly narrow waist, his limbs long and lean but still projecting an aura of strength.</p>
<p>He’s beautiful, and the good news is, Chloe won’t ever have to tell him.</p>
<p>“Ah, what the hell,” she shrugs, settling in for the ride.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p> </p>

<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <em>
      <strong>~ IV ~</strong>
    </em>
  </p>
</div><p>She can’t avoid interacting with him this time, mainly because he’s standing right before her, leaning against the glass barrier that separates his balcony from what would be freefall into the unnaturally crisp LA air. Clearly drunk, most probably high Lucifer Morningstar is <em>a sight</em>, one that inspires mixed feelings: a hot, terrible mess Chloe knows better than to look at too closely. And yet.</p>
<p>“Did you see if our suspect talked to anyone specifically? It could be important for our investigation,” she asks him, notepad in hand, trying not to stare at the quite noticeable V of his slender hips. She has asked him to tie his black silk robe three times already, to no avail.</p>
<p>“Darling, as I've already told you, I was quite <em>distracted</em> to notice what anyone else was doing,” Morningstar replies before taking a long drag from his cigarette. “Are you not familiar with what a sex party is?”</p>
<p>Bits and pieces from his online performance come back to her, threatening to break the professional façade she is trying to maintain. She needs to take back control, fast.</p>
<p>“I'm certainly <em>aware</em> of what it is, yes. Also, it’s <em>Detective Decker</em>, if you don’t mind.”</p>
<p>“<em>Detective</em>, is it?” His lips curve into a smirk, tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek. She’s never met anyone as infuriatingly smug as this rich, entitled idiot, but there’s something in his too-gleeful gaze that gives her pause. Something hollow, like a void yet to be filled. “So you really gave up on your acting career? Pity. And whatever happened to that autograph I asked for?”</p>
<p>Ugh, and there he is again. Chloe’s not sure why she even bothers.</p>
<p>“I'm not signing any autograph. I'm trying to solve a murder here.”</p>
<p>“Come now, you already have the pen and all.” Morningstar gestures at it with his free hand, casually dismissing the rest of her sentence as if they didn’t just shut down a soon-to-be orgy because the shady British ass happened to invite a possible accomplice and certified drug dealer. “And if you'd rather not waste paper, my chest will do.”</p>
<p>“No, thanks.” Chloe shoots him a tight smile, making sure he can sense the annoyance behind it.</p>
<p>“Oh? How about I sign yours then? I mean, you can say I'm a local celebrity, too. The Devil of LA, some people call me – as if there were others out there in the world. Such bloody nonsense.”</p>
<p>Great, he’s crazy, too. Figures.</p>
<p>“The only thing I'll let you sign tonight is your official statement, Mr. Morningstar.” Chloe calls out to an officer near her, so they can wrap this up. “Thank you for your cooperation, though it wasn’t particularly useful.”</p>
<p>She turns to leave, headed for the inside of Playboy Extraordinaire’s luxurious penthouse.</p>
<p>“Until we meet again, Detective!” she hears him say. She rolls her eyes, but doesn’t turn to let him see it.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p> </p>

<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <strong>
      <em>~ V ~</em>
    </strong>
  </p>
</div><p>Driving a convertible is a blessing, Lucifer thinks, though certainly not one bestowed upon him by Dear Old Dad. He likes the wind in his face, and yes, the stares of the humans he drives by; likes what this car says about him, that he is a lover of life and pleasure and all things meant to be enjoyed with abandon.</p>
<p>There’s a part of him that craves the sky above him, too, that wishes for nothing to be between him and the clouds if it can be avoided; but he rarely lets himself contemplate it, otherwise he'd end up reconsidering living in the penthouse altogether. Moving on. Always moving on.</p>
<p>It’s what he does best, isn’t it?</p>
<p>But alas, it’s when he stops at a traffic light that his choice of transportation comes back to bite him. The smog of the city permeates the air around him, and the <em>noise</em> – what is all that bloody bickering in the car right next to his?!</p>
<p>“But he said he would make it! He lied to me! He <em>always</em> lies to me!” shrieks a pocket-sized, female human specimen, barely visible below the lower edge of the window. “I don’t wanna do Taco Tuesday without Dad!”</p>
<p>Ah, disappointing father figures. Been there, done that, burned all the way to Hell in the process.</p>
<p>“Monkey, I know, and I'm sorry.” Hold on, is that…? “He’s just… very busy these days, but I promise he’ll make it up to you, okay?”</p>
<p>“Whatever.” The Detective’s child pouts and stares out the window, looking at him but not really. “Maybe he just doesn’t like me anymore, but you don’t want to tell me and make me feel bad.”</p>
<p>“Oh Trix, don’t say that. He’s your dad, <em>of course</em> he likes you.”</p>
<p>Lucifer feels his fingers tighten around the wheel of the Corvette, his jaw clenching at the sudden, unwanted memory.</p>
<p>
  <em>You will never cross these Gates again, Samael. You are no longer worthy of Me.</em>
</p>
<p>Is it customary for human parents to lie to their offspring so blatantly? To just <em>assume</em> that’s how the world works, when the oldest Father of them all is proof of the opposite?</p>
<p>Perhaps he should say something. And he almost does. But when he turns again, realizing he zoned out, former hot tub talent Chloe Decker is smiling down at her dark-haired spawn, the child busy changing radio channels in search of a song she deems worthy of her time. The lines of the Detective’s face are softer, now, not as stern as they were when she barged into his penthouse and rained on his sex-parade.</p>
<p>When the light turns green, it takes the sound of a few horns for him to speed away.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>~ +1 ~</em>
  </strong>
</p>

<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <em>2016 A.D.</em>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
</div><p>“You look familiar, have we met before?”</p>
<p>He delivers the joke from behind the rim of his tumbler, eyes brighter than the lights of his club. A witness to murder, this time, and with a personal connection to the victim. He won’t let this go, which is just Chloe’s luck.</p>
<p>“Yes. Yes, we have.”</p>
<p>“Chloe Decker, is it?” He clearly pretends to need the reminder.</p>
<p>“Lucifer Morningstar, is it?” she parrots, once again baffled by the fact that it’s the guy’s actual name. The first time around, she’d thought it was a porn star pseudonym.</p>
<p>“In the flesh,” he confirms, then places the glass on a coaster on top of the piano. “At last, it seems like we can get to know each other, you and I.”</p>
<p>Ignoring him, Chloe flips her notepad open and clicks on her pen.</p>
<p>It will be a long, long case.</p>
  </div></div>
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